Camp-Fire and Cotton-Field eBook

We did not look upon the post at Waterproof as a sure
protection. There was no cavalry to make the
promised patrol between Waterproof and the post next
below it, or to hunt down any guerrillas that might
come near. A few of the soldiers were mounted
on mules and horses taken from the vicinity, but they
were not effective for rapid movements. It was
understood, and semi-officially announced, that the
post was established for the protection of Government
plantations. The commandant assured me he had
no orders to that effect. He was placed there
to defend the post, and nothing else. We were
welcome to any protection his presence afforded, but
he could not go outside the limits of the town to
make any effort in our behalf.

There was a store at Waterproof which was doing a
business of two thousand dollars daily. Every
day the wives, brothers, or sisters of men known to
belong to the marauding bands in the vicinity, would
come to the town and make any purchases they pleased,
frequently paying for them in money which the guerrillas
had stolen. A gentleman, who was an intimate
friend of General Thomas, was one of the proprietors
of this store, and a son of that officer was currently
reported to hold an interest in it. After a time
the ownership was transferred to a single cotton speculator,
but the trading went on without hinderance. This
speculator told me the guerrilla leader had sent him
a verbal promise that the post should not be disturbed
or menaced so long as the store remained there.
Similar scenes were enacted at nearly all the posts
established for the “protection” of leased
plantations. Trading stores were in full operation,
and the amount of goods that reached the Rebels and
their friends was enormous.

I have little doubt that this course served to prolong
the resistance to our arms along the Mississippi River.
If we had stopped all commercial intercourse with
the inhabitants, we should have removed the inducement
for Rebel troops to remain in our vicinity. As
matters were managed, they kept close to our lines
at all the military posts between Cairo and Baton
Rouge, sometimes remaining respectfully quiet, and
at others making occasional raids within a thousand
yards of our pickets.

The absence of cavalry, and there being no prospect
that any would arrive, led us to believe that we could
not long remain unmolested. We were “in
for it,” however, and continued to plow and plant,
trusting to good fortune in getting safely through.
Our misfortune came at last, and brought our free-labor
enterprise to an untimely end.

As I stated in the previous chapter, Colburn and myself
made daily visits to the plantation, remaining there
for dinner, and returning to Waterproof in the afternoon.
On Monday, May 2d, we made our usual visit, and returned
to the post. A steamer touched there, on its way
to Natchez, just after our return, and we accepted
the invitation of her captain to go to that place.
Our journey to Natchez was purely from impulse, and
without any real or ostensible business to call us
away. It proved, personally, a very fortunate
journey.